


Long Time, No See

by attractedtokitchenware



Category: Daredevil (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-25
Updated: 2018-11-20
Packaged: 2019-07-17 13:01:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16096202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/attractedtokitchenware/pseuds/attractedtokitchenware
Summary: Wanda Maximova doesn't do that anymore. Unless it's for Matt Murdock.





	1. Before

**Author's Note:**

> this is HELLA canon divergent so,, bear with me?

She hadn't seen Matthew in months. Not since the event with Elektra; and she hated him. Despite keeping his apartment, the silk sheets they'd confessed their love on, the booze in the refrigerator she still stocked, and even wore his shirts to bed still, Wanda Django Maximova, once prepared to be Wanda Django Maximova-Murdock, never wanted to lay eyes on the Daredevil or his alter ego ever again.

And it stayed that way. For a long six months, Wanda Django Maximova saw tail nor hide of anyone she associated with Matthew Michael Murdock. Even Frank Castle stayed well out of the witch's way.

Her life, for what it was, remained normal.

Until one day, he stumbled right back in.

She had been sitting on the couch, a Swedish novel in hand and a canned soda (on a coaster, Momma had always said coasters were fancy, and now she could be) on the glass table in front of her.

The feeling of his mind touched her first, before she set her book down and watched the man in black crawl through the window; anger washed over her, and for a moment, she thought she might smack him the moment he stood up. He didn't though, just fell staggered down the staircase pathetically. Wanda almost felt bad about it. Here he was, the first man she ever truly felt she loved, and she wanted nothing to do with him.

Matthew stopped at the bottom of the stairs, holding his side as he leant against the wall. He muttered her name again before falling down, unconscious.  
  


The next time Matthew Murdock came to, he was back in a position he was all too familiar with. Nearly naked, covered in bandages, and faced with a very upset woman.

Except Wanda was more than a very upset woman; she was the woman he wanted to marry, to live a life with, and he'd ruined that through Elektra. As it always was.

The blind man groaned. It startled Wanda ever so slighty; ever since his 'death', she'd grown used to having a semi-silent mind. Life had certainly gotten quieter since he died.

"Do not move. You will only irritate your wounds, and I do not feel like stitching you up again." She hadn't moved from her place at the large window, looking up at the nearly nonexistent sky. The neon sign hadn't been moved, he could still hear the buzzing from it.

"Wanda, I-"

She cut him off swiftly. "Don't. Don't you fucking dare try to explain yourself. Just sleep for a few hours. When I get home tonight I want you gone. If you still want this place, I'll start looking for somewhere else, until then I don't even want to see you on the street."

Her former lover was shocked, to say the least. He hadn't anticipated such animosity from Wanda. In truth, Matthew had actually forgotten how angry she could get. The man struggled to sit up. He felt the energy on his chest before he heard her footsteps approaching.

"Whatever part of me that would've died for you you, done anything to save, and care for you, it's gone now. It died when you did. I died when you did. I advise you to stay put and rest for a few hours. I'm not going to make you, but I will not hesitate to stop you should you try to approach me. I hate you, Matthew. I hate you. Stay away from me after you leave. Stay far away from me, and my family."

 

Wanda had been lying, of course. Matthew left within three hours, after another nap, and Wanda, clad in his shirt and a pair of underwear, laid in bed and cried until she fell asleep.

She'd been lying not only to Matthew, but to herself. Of course, Matthew didn't believe it because she truly believed she hated him. That was before he left, though. After, she remembered what it was like to miss him. She remembered what it was like to want him home, safe, and out of the Mask.

True, Wanda Maximova was the Scarlet Witch, but that was a long time ago. In the words of a great writer, the world had moved on. She, too, had moved on.

Before Jessica Jones and Luke Cage and Danny Rand, there had been Matthew and Wanda. A pregnant, soon to be wed, couple. A superhero couple, which made things difficult, but they had helped one another learn. Wanda had learned self control, and Matthew began to open up; more than he had with Foggy. Wanda began to know the Matthew Michael Murdock that had been before the death of his father.

And she fell in love with him. A man that took her to lunch, and pulled her back from the abyss of her powers, taught her to get over the death of her brother; a man that fought with her, both side by side and against her. No matter how bad their fights got, though, she found herself apologizing, or, more often than not, fucking him while they both left marks worthy of real battle on one another;

Only once did she ever feel she couldn't make the effort to apologize to him. The night Kingpin nearly destroyed him, and their relationship.  
  


_Things hadn't been going well for her. She'd lost her job at the Square Diner after she slipped up with her accent and her native tongue, which use was now in heavy decline, spilled out. And all she'd done was spill coffee on herself. She was a former Avenger, she could handle a little hot coffee for god's sake._

_Either way, the Scarlet Witch was still a liability on the insurance, and now she was out looking for another job. It was bad enough that she fought during the night, she didn't need another stress._

_The day would only get worse._

_Foggy called and told her how the case against Wilson Fisk had gone and invited her out for drinks with them. She accepted. The bar was loud, as expected this late. They toasted, Matthew's hand was creeping it's way between her stockings and miniskirt; she was looking forward to a good night. And then his mind had twitched, moved elsewhere._

_Wanda took his hand off of her thigh and squeezed, but he was gone. His mind was on what he was listening to, and after listening to his thoughts, her happiness was taken._

**Don't. Please, not tonight.**

_He glanced back at her, or the equivalent of doing so, as he was blind._

**It's Fisk.**

_Wanda visably grimaced. A part of her wanted to say 'Fuck Fisk, he's screwed with our happiness enough', but she knew they wouldn't ever get a chance to take him down again. This was not something the Avengers could wrap up with a firefight. Fisk was a tried and true legal problem, and while he had his fair share of blood, Fisk was not Loki, or Ultron, or Brock Rumlow._

_She sighed inwardly, exhausted at the day and the man in front of her, itching for a fight. She didn't want to fight anymore. So she let him go._

_A quick, vague explanation was granted to Foggy and Karen, then they were gone._

 

_Matthew was out for hours, and she was almost tempted to disobey his order to stay home to go and search for him herself, before she felt his mind. It was weak, but she drew to him, and healed him._

_When he woke up, he could smell coffee, and hear Wanda turning the pages of whatever novel was in her hand. A smile touched his lips as he realized that he wanted her to read to him, like she always did when he was badly wounded._

_"Wanda..." His voice was hoarse, and it hurt when his larynx vibrated ever so slighty._

_The witch looked up from her book, almost considering a moment before getting up and bringing him his water._

_"You shouldn't go out with me anymore." She stated quietly. Matthew almost choked._

_"Excuse me?"_

_The Sokovian shrugged. "Every time you do, you nearly die. I've lost enough."_

_"I'm... not going to die out there... Wands." She ripped the water from him and turned away._

_"The hell you are!" It sounded as though she had crossed her arms, but the moment he smelled an excess of salt on the air he knew better._

_"Wanda..." He rasped once more. The woman plopped down next to him, sobbing quietly._

_"I can't lose anymore. I'll do anything it takes to keep you safe." Matthew flinched. He had been stupid to take Fisk on alone, he knew that long before the confrontation, but hearing Wanda like this broke his heart further. Still hurting, but aching for her touch, he reached out and held the younger woman close to him._

_"I can't risk you getting hurt. It would ruin me."_

_"I can handle myself, Matthew. Better than you, sometimes." The Devil laughed softly, startling the woman on his shoulder._

_"While that's true, everyone knows who you are, too. Even the Mask doesn't save you from that." While he thought it humorous, Wanda stood abruptly._

_"Dammit, stop looking for excuses! I am a grown woman, and I have seen my fare share of fighting, Matthew!" Another flinch; she was getting loud, her heart rate was rising. Anger._

_"I know you have-"_

_"Then treat me like it! I was ten when my parents died in front of me, I was used as a lab rat for two years, I fought the Winter Soldier at his height and can take down more mercenaries in twenty minutes than you have in an entire night, I can fucking fight for myself and you treat me like a child!"_

_He winced, one more time, before he stood up with her. "I lost people too, Wanda! I'm not about to lose the woman I love! Not again! And certainly not to Wilson goddamn Fisk!"_  
  
  


Wanda remembered the days like that, the days when Framk Castle destroyed Matthew, and how no matter how angry she had been, she helped him. The night Elektra had nearly died in the bed she lay on, and how, through his feelings, she helped heal Elektra as well, despite her hate of the assassin. Wanda Django Maximoff was still a little girl, hopelessly in love with a man that didn't deserve it.

She still hated that Mask. Both of their Masks. She hated them, and the burden that came along with them. The Masks, like Wilson Fisk, had drawn her away from being an Avenger.  
  


_She held it in her hands with a type of reverence. Not the kind that made her afraid she wasn't worthy, but the kind that made her afraid that she was already accepting the loss of the man next to her._

_"You don't have to tonight, if you don't want to. I just thought you should have one too."_

_The Mask in her hands felt heavy. The kind of heavy that made her want to put it down and not pick it up, ever, ever again; but she didn't._

_Instead, she looked Matthew in the face, and kissed him. He kissed back eagerly, the initial shock wearing off quickly. She dropped the Mask to the floor as Matthew pulled her in._

_"Stay. Please." She exhaled. "Let us forget the world,_ their world _." He was her world. He knew that._

_Still, he shook his head._

By the time the sun rose again, Wanda had stopped remembering, and started sleeping.  
  



	2. The Church

  
  
The Church  
  
  
The sun. She absolutely loved it. Everything about it. The way it warmed her skin, the way it made the rings on her fingers feel heavy and grounded her. The sun brought out her happiness, and often made her forget about Matthew. There were instances when it didn’t work, though. Like this morning. Following the events of the previous night, Wanda couldn’t seem to get Murdock out of her head.   
  
  
In contempt with the fact that she had felt him die months before, along with Elektra, she was at a loss as to how he was alive now, and how she knew without a doubt that what she’d seen was not an illusion. Of this, she was certain.   
  
  
Wanda sat with her front to the sun, a mug of coffee to her left hand, sketchbook in the other. Her hand was already subconsciously sketching out Matt’s messy hairline, like she used to do when she woke up before him, or he was lost in thought during breakfast. Often, she would add little horns over his head as a joke, and after the graphite settled, would let him run his fingers over; she could recall with terrifying detail how his laugh made her heart lurch.  
  
  
Eventually, Wanda stood up and left her place on the roof, and went down to the apartment.   
  
  
SHIELD sent her most of her funds, after all, getting a job wasn’t easy, and she was too stubborn to listen to Natasha’s advice on how to blend in. She refused to cut or dye her hair, wear colored contacts, in fact, the only change she ever made to her body was a small piercing through her left eyebrow, and the semicolon tattoo that adorned her right wrist. Matt had been the first to see, rather feel, it. He hadn’t been shocked, truth be told he had probably known she had been going to get it long before she ever actually did.  
  
  
Although she was in her own head during the trek downstairs, the ring of her phone in her back pocket snapped her out of it.  
  
  
It was Foggy. The first she’d heard from him since the Event. Wanda answered, expecting news about Matthew.  
  
  
“Have you seen the news?” Straight to the point, then.  
  
  
“No, why?”   
  
  
“Turn it on. Now.”  
  
  
“Franklin,” Wanda sighed. “I’m not even home. Can’t it wait?”  
  
  
“Absolutely not. Get home right now. It’s urgent.”  
  


  
Wanda, exasperated at something that was probably an over exaggeration , but nonetheless hurried back to her apartment and turned on the tv she’d bought after Matt’s death.  
  
  
She crushed her phone upon seeing the headline.  
  
  
**Breaking: Wilson Fisk Released**  
  
  
There was a reporter voicing over the footage from the previous year, of the trial, of Fisk being led to a police escorted vehicle in handcuffs, and of Matthew Murdock, the ‘little guy’ who stood up to a villain. Of course, Hells Kitchen had never seen it that way. Either way, Wilson Fisk, a Kingpin in every sense of the word, had found his way to cheat the system, as rich men like him often did.  
  
  
  
  
The sun was gone, and with it, much of Wanda’s hope of living out a life where she didn’t have to be the Scarlet Witch again.   
  
  
Her objective, now that the sun was down, was to find Matthew. There were places she was ready to scout out, but the longer she waited the closer she felt to him. After a while, he appeared behind her. The woman turned around.   
  
  
“You should wear a mask.” His was already garnished his, not his new and improved devil's horned red mask, though, no, it was almost as though he'd snuck in and taken his old black suit; even in the dark, she could see that he'd gained a suitable amount of muscle.  
  
"No. It wouldn't matter any way." The corner of Matthew's lip curled up in annoyance, but he didn't say anything.   
  
  
I just want to protect you.  
  
"I can still hear your thoughts, dipshit."  
  
The Devil winced."I thought-"  
  
"You were dead, Matthew! What was I supposed to do, dig through the rubble for your body and take back what was left of my mind?" She was almost yelling now; after a moment, her heart and breathing had calmed. "How long is it going to take you to realize that you died?" The tears were back, but she wouldn't let them fall. Not in front of him.  
  
"You know about Fisk? Is that why you're back?"   
  
Matthew offered nothing but a curt nod before moving to the edge of the roof. Wanda reached out for his hand; she didn't know what her intention was, but some part of her wanted to tell him that she had lied; that she still loved him.  
  
"You shouldn't do this alone. ne snova."  
  
"I'm going to do this alone. Yeshche raz."  
  
Wanda followed him into the night.  
  
  
  
She woke up in the church.  
  
Of course, she wasn't concerned which church, there were nuns rushing about, attending to their duties. The link in her mind hummed louder than usual; she heard Matthew hiss in pain. The sound was both nearby and far, far away. Wanda mumbled something in Russian, too tired to switch to a dialect that wasn't her own. Her head swam, and the moment she moved to sit up it wasn't Matthew or the other woman in the room that pushed her down, but her own mind. A cry of pain fell from her lips and her ears rang heavily.  
  
  
  
"Matthew, what happened to her?"  
  
"She's too powerful; we were fighting, the next thing I know, she's on the ground and her heart slowed down too much." Matthew hissed again before taking another gulp of wine. He thought that maybe he was wrong for being angry at her, maybe it was just a slip up, but the link to her mind, dwindling as it was, told him otherwise. Wanda had known full well that using her powers in excess after not having touched them in so long would do this. So did he, though, and he'd let her go with him. His head felt akin to that of Doctor Jekyll and Mister Hyde.  
  
Following his mother leaving, Matthew moved to sit next to Wanda, the bottle of wine still in his hand; he wasn't even buzzed yet.  
  
  
  
There was something wrong. Her hands, how they ached, and her mind, something raged. Something evil.  
  
The wine bottle in his hand shattered, and vanished almost simultaneously, followed by Wanda opening her eyes and launching herself into Matthew's arms. It was almost as if she'd never stated how much she hated him.  
  
However, Matthew wasn't going to just let her off.  
  
"What were you thinking?" He pushed her off, not caring for the look of anger bubbling in her eyes. “You could’ve killed them! Or worse, yourself.” Still shirtless, Matthew stood holding his side. “I thought I told you your powers would build until they explode unless you use them almost daily.”

 

“And I thought you'd died! As much as I hate you, I… I couldn't stand a life without you.” Wanda looked to the ground. Her heart wasn't so steady anymore, it was hammering in her chest and any attempt Matthew made to listen in on it made him nauseous. 

 

It was only a moment later that he realized it wasn’t the volume of her heartbeat or how fast it was, it was his own. His own heart in his throat, and his own racing mind, and his own feelings bubbling up inside of him. Matthew couldn't help but to put his own feelings first this time.

 

“I still love you, Wanda.”

 

The woman looked up, startled. After a moment of contemplation, she shook her head. 

 

“Don't lie to me, Matthew.” 

 

A step forward. 

 

“I’m not -” Wanda cut him off swiftly.

 

“You lived, and you died with Elektra. Do not come back into my life after doing just that and tell me you love me!” Her voice was rising, and Matthew was afraid of another outburst. All either of them needed was to appear on the nightly news after Wilson Fisk’s release.

 

“You meant  _ everything  _ to me.” Tears flowed down her cheeks; as a result, her voice grew unsteady. “You will never know what it was like to go back to that room without you.”

 

_ Luke was the one to grab her as the building fell. He was also the one to cover her mouth before she yelled for Matthew; and she was almost too strong for him. The Defenders were brute strength, but Wanda was something else. Even Danny Rand struggled to use the Iron Fist to stop her.  _

 

_ As the police arrived, though, Wanda had gone silent. In her hand, she held the cowl of Daredevil, her thumbs running over the horns. How it had gotten there, no one knew. Wanda surely didn't, even Strucker had said that no one knew what would entail in the experiments to build her powers. She took it as one of her new abilities. They tended to manifest after great emotional events. Pietro’s death had revealed her flight, her parents’ death had given her telepathy. This was new, and she didn't like it. _

  
  
  


_ The precinct was a mess of chaos and people coming in, shouting that they'd seen the Avengers and Loki again, or something wild along those lines. But the Avengers weren't there, no one was. Those left in the Defenders didn't bother consoling her, she'd made it fairly clear she didn't want anyone near her. However, Jessica Jones offered her a look of sorrow before walking into the room with their own respective friends and family. Wanda was alone. Foggy and Karen liked her well enough, but she wasn't Matthew. _

 

_ It would've been much different if it were Matthew, not her, walking through that door. A hug, words of apology, maybe a tear.  _ **_She wasn't Matthew._ **

 

_ Foggy looked up with hope as he saw Wanda, but somehow she could see that he knew. His best friend, his partner, no matter how often they'd fought, best pal until the end, wasn't there. He was dead.  _

 

_ Karen sobbed. Wanda handed Foggy the mask and left without a word.  _

  
  
  


“I nearly destroyed the apartment that night. I wanted to kill myself,” there was a beat before she continued. “I thought that maybe it wasn't real, but every day I went back to the building. To the hole. It's gone now, and so were you.”

 

Matthew made a move to sit next to Wanda. “I tried, Wanda I tried so hard to leave but Elektra wouldn’t let me. She begged me-” the door that was once open now slammed shut, barely touched by any energy. Wanda wasn’t even looking at it. 

 

“Wanda-”

 

“I don’t care what Elektra did to keep you there, you promised me you’d come back.  _ You promised. _ ” Her hands were balled into fists in her lap, nevermind the fact that Matthew was trying to get her to look him in the eye.   
  


“You’re upset I wasn’t using my powers, but I used them every chance I got. I just wanted you back. You said you would come back, and when you didn’t I tried to use my powers to bring you back.”

 

Appalled, Matthew tried to speak, though Wanda had already read his mind. 

 

“I stopped two weeks ago, maybe. Danny told me what you said a few weeks after.” He didn’t have to ask what she meant by that. “I haven’t seen Jessica or Luke or Danny since. And I didn’t want to. You were dead, and I thought I could finally stop losing people.” Wanda inhaled sharply, mucus stopping her from breathing correctly. Matthew wanted nothing more than to hold her.

 

So he did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I've decided to keep going with this story because I already have a full outline and I'm trying to force myself to finish something for once in my life.


	3. She Calls Him Benjamin

Two weeks had passed, Fisk had gone public with his release, and his announcement that Daredevil was the real public enemy. Things truly began falling apart after that. Wanda and Matthew continued to fight, both together against Fisk and his men and the new player, the imposter.

 

No one knew he was an imposter, save Matthew and Wanda, and as awful as she felt that someone was parading around in the Daredevil mask and ruining Matthew’s already broken life, she couldn’t stand to be around him for anything but a fight. 

 

_ He held her for several moments, but Wanda refused to take more of it. She refused to take more from him, and to give him anything else. She needed to move on, and everything in his mind screamed ‘Daredevil’. Wanda needed someone who was separate from the world of the heroes. She needed a normal life. It was all she truly longed for.  _

 

_ When it was too much, Wanda pushed Matthew off of her.  _

 

_ “Thank you. And thank the nun who helped me. I have to go.” As she stood, Matthew grabbed her by the wrist. “Please,” he begged.  _

 

_ “No.  _ Ne snove _.”  _

 

The pencil in her hand began to move on its own as Wanda sat back. Her fingers were mimicking the movements of the pencil; in the past two weeks, the Witch had begun to incorporate herself into Wanda’ s daily life, and each use of her abilities pushed the monster in her had back a little bit more. With a flick of her left wrist, the television blinked to life with the ramblings of the local Hells Kitchen media. Lately, more and more protesters had gathered to oppose the release of Wilson Fisk. Even though she had started fighting with Matthew less and less, she still worried about Fisk. He was a monster with a vendetta against both Matthew and Wanda. For Matthew, he was almost ecstatic that he had Fisk’s attention; she was nearly terrified of how desperate Matthew truly was to end Fisk. 

 

After another few minutes of thinking and listening, Wanda stood and left the apartment. She deserved time away and in the world, even if she had no job and often refused to socialize.

  
  
  


The streets were buzzing in Hell's Kitchen, as always. People in a hurry to go somewhere else, as things go, no one in their right mind would stay in Hell's Kitchen. Of course, no one without good reason. Wanda wasn’t sure why she stayed, but she felt she belonged in this place, for whatever odd reason. She liked it.

 

Further down the street, Wanda ran into a man coming out of the coffee shop. She felt the heat from the coffee fall over her abdomen and the rest onto the man. A spike of anger spread throughout her, but it wasn’t her own. Wanda didn’t know that then.

 

She cried out and began apologizing profusely. “I’m so sorry, here, let me buy you another coffee.” She looked up at the man, stunned by his charming looks, so much so that she hardly noticed the smoldering anger in his eyes. It went away the moment he locked eyes with Wanda, though. “No, no, it was my fault, I should’ve seen you. Don’t worry about it.”

 

“Oh, no, no, I insist.” The brunette looked down at his shirt, noticing he was wearing a sweatshirt. It matched her own, and as it was Matthew’s, Wanda could assume that it would fit him. “Here, take my sweater. I’ll wash yours.” The sweater slid off of her small figure with ease, revealing the single pendant from Pietro, and the long sleeve that covered her scar littered arms. “I couldn’t Miss…”

 

She smiled softly. “Call me Wanda, and don’t worry about it. I’ve been looking for a reason to get rid of this thing anyway.” She handed the man the sweater, and he smiled. 

 

“What kind of coffee did you have?”

 

“Decaf, black, thank you.” 

 

Wanda smiled as the man left, and she went to order. 

 

He was tall, much taller than her, and his hair was a sandy blonde, and he was as muscular, if not more so, than Matthew. Though, she wasn’t sure how much of an advantage one would have over the other, and she refused to read his mind. 

 

“So, I think now that I’ve bought you coffee, I should know your name.” The barista placed both coffees on the counter behind her, one labeled ‘dcf, blck’ and the other a frothy, whip cream covered vanilla frappuccino. The blonde man smiled; it was a gorgeous smile, soft, with the energy of a sunset. 

 

“Ben Poindexter, my friends call me Dex, though.” Wanda took the jacket from him before gesturing to a booth next to the window. “I apologize again, Dex. I was raised to be less clumsy.”  _ Raised  _ was a loose term, she had rather been coerced into learning how to move not like a warrior, but a leaf in the wind. Her body had been trained to contort and flex in ways no human’s body should, and had learned to fight by the hand of Captain America himself. Those days were once behind her, but with Wilson Fisk out of prison and armed with the knowledge of her and Matthew’s identities, she feared that a day would soon approach when her knowledge of combat would come to fruition once more. 

 

“So, Wanda, what were you doing not paying attention to the door?” He followed this with a soft chuckle, to which Wanda joined in. 

 

“I was thinking.” He gave a quizzical look. “An old boyfriend of mine is back in town and he asked to see me. I’m not sure what I should tell him.”

 

“Tell him you have a date?” Wanda choked on the sip of coffee she was in the middle of. Dex made quick to take the cup from her hands and gift her a napkin; she offered him a quick thank you before cleaning her face up.

 

“I’m afraid-”

 

“I’m asking you on a date.”

  
  
  


The coffee had been fine, just as his company, but she was in no rush to tell anyone that she had a date with one of the FBI agents that was on Wilson Fisk detail. Benjamin was nice enough, and he didn’t really mind when Wanda called him by his first name. It was just part of her upbringing. Even when she and Matthew were together, she rarely called him Matt. Always Matthew. Once she had been told Matt sounded odd with her certain dialect and accent, so she stuck to full first names. 

 

There was something off about Benjamin, though. While he was nice, he was rather clingy; and not in a cute way. The moment she gave him her number, there was a text message. Not that she minded, it was a nice change from Matthew’s stoicism and refusal to let her contribute to his fight. Benjamin spent a good amount of time listening to her side of  hate toward Wilson Fisk, and agreeing with her. 

 

After discovering that she would very much like to go on a date with Benjamin Poindexter, Wanda handed over her number and added his own to her contacts, with two little hearts in tow of the name ‘Benjamin’. 

 

Twelve hours later, showered, dressed in a black mermaid tail dress, open back, and small heels. Benjamin sat at the front of the building in his own vehicle. Wanda was halfway down the stairs when it became decidedly obvious that she would not make it in her shoes, and going without them down  _ these _ stairs was most certainly not an option. 

 

She afforded a glance around her, antecedent to climbing on the railing, and using her energy to allow her to glide down to the floor level. Afterward, she walked to Benjamin’s car without an issue.   
  
  
  


Wilson Fisk knew everything he needed to about Wanda Maximova. Her new identity, her very shaky citizenship thanks to some shady organization that even Fisk’s best hackers could not get into. Either way, he was sure a showing of this to the FBI would be enough to send her back to the ruins of Sokovia, or better yet, the Raft, given her escapades with Captain America across the world. He wouldn’t though, not yet. This was leverage against the Devil of Hells Kitchen, Matthew Murdock. 

Fisk had kept a keen eye on his detail, but his focus was on Special Agent Ben Poindexter, or Dex. This is what led him to his new fascination with Miss Maximova. Even after she helped Murdock take him down, he was not so vengeful as to take her away from the Devil as he had taken Vanessa. However, after Julie, Wanda was a threat. 

She was a genuinely good person, and cared about others, and Fisk hated that. A good quality trait, but Wanda was a hero, and if Poindexter were to ever discover that the Scarlet Witch was before him, and what she had done to not just further herself, but to amend that atrocity to the best of her abilities, Dex would fall head over heels in love, and his North Star would be secured. She was a problem that needed to be taken care of immediately.

Fisk turned to his new confidant, since the death of Wesley, and administered his first order as the up and coming Kingpin. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to be taking some inspiration from Daredevil season 3, because i have finished it, but I will by no means be spoiling the show. If that changes I'll place a warning at the beginning of the chapter.
> 
> Translations: ne snove - not again.


	4. Fisk

**** Date after date, once, sometimes twice a week, Wanda gave time and more than that when it came to Benjamin; but sometimes he slipped. She felt it in his mind, and no matter how much she tried, there was the common mistake and blunder, and Wanda found herself within his mind. 

 

Each time was vague, but each time she got a glimpse of something different. A baseball game, a dying woman in a chair, and never was she herself. She was always as Benjamin. Always seeing and feeling things from his point of view, never from her own, as it usually was. After weeks of being with him, Wanda had figured that a very long time ago he’d been given a label that didn’t apply to him, not wholly at least. Though, she never inquired about it. Even in his memories, it was very clear that any little thing could set him off, and Wanda already cared far too much for him to lose him.

 

She relayed most of this back to Steve on their monthly coffee day. Benjamin knew that she visited a man each month, sometimes it was two men. Wanda had never told him that, but Benjamin knew. Fisk had prompted him to follow her, claiming that she met with the former Captain, turned fugitive, Steve Rogers, and sometimes his accomplice and fugitive, James Barnes. He never said anything to his superiors, though. Wanda was happy, and he knew it. That’s all that mattered, for Benjamin would do anything to keep his North Star shining. 

  
  
  


“I just want to make sure you’re safe. Out of any of us, you deserve a life out of crime. Safe.”

 

Wanda smiled, bringing the ceramic cup of coffee to her lips. “I promise you, I’m being careful. I don’t go to protests, I don’t vote, I keep my hours outside at a minimum,” her voice died out, and Steve knew just how much she was really suffering. Here was a girl who had spent her whole life locked up for one reason or another, and thanks to him she was in even more danger than before. 

 

“I never should’ve asked for your help, I’m sorry.” The young woman glanced down at her feet. 

 

“I love you, Steven, like a brother. But I never should’ve helped you,” a pause. “I have to go.” She repeated her statement before, kissed his cheek, and hurried off.

  
  
  


“You see, Dex? She’s always in a hurry. Why?” Wilson suppressed his grin as Poindexter wrung his hands harshly. His North Star, cheating on him. He had to do something, it was the only coherent thought in his racing mind. He had to do something.  _ He had to do something.  _ **_He had to do something._ ** Before he lost her too. 

 

“I have a gift for you, Dex. And a way to get her back.”

  
  
  


The Bulletin. One night at the Bulletin, killing, like he’d enjoyed, and Wanda would race into his arms. 

Fisk had given him a suit, an odd suit, one that used to belong to the Daredevil. If he did this, if he killed those at the Bulletin as a show of who the real enemy was, Fisk would make sure that Wanda would be his forever. 

 

The car pulled to a stop, and Dex stepped out of the vehicle, rushing to the back door. As agreed, Fisk’s men had cut the power, and now Poindexter was free to do as he wished. 

 

Images of his parents flashed through his mind, and the moment he touched the batons at his side a calm washed over him. It was always this way, only different the first time. Adrenaline no longer ran through him, rather, as he threw and killed the first to come in his way, Dex felt a feeling of satisfaction. That of a cool winter morning with hot coffee and a nice book, as Wanda often enjoyed. Killing was his cool morning, and the batons in his hands, the book. 

 

He was stopped only by the real Daredevil, but that didn’t register in his mind. What did, was that this man in the black mask was a threat to him so long as he was allowed in close. Something was off, though, and what Dex could see through the mask was that he was not just a vigilante in a mask, but someone who had trained and prepared for a life behind the mask. He threw the closest thing to him, a snow globe, that shattered mere feet from the Devil’s head. He threw something else, but this time he didn’t hear it clatter to the floor. Rather, the hum of energy, and through the dark tint of the mask, he saw red energy, holding the stapler he’d thrown inches from the Devil’s chest. He couldn’t make out distinct features, but it was quite obvious that the new contender was a woman. Short, with long hair, and she, too, donned a red mask. Not a mask, a cowl. She stood between Dex and the Devil, who stood in front of a lawyer that had once worked with Matt Murdock. 

  
  
  


Matthew was saying something to her, something she couldn’t hear; something she didn’t want to hear. “Leave. Take Foggy, and your witness, and leave. I can handle him.”

 

Benjamin. What was he doing here, and in that god forsaken mask? It seemed that all of her lovers were doomed to the mask, one way or another. “No, you -” Wanda cut Matthew off swiftly, sending the stapler caught in her energy back towards Benjamin. He caught it and immediately began his assault again. Wanda flicked her wrist, and each object met with a shield meant to withstand much more. “No, you go. I can handle him.” Her accent came trickling back, and with it the memories of Pietro. 

 

Wanda frowned, but Matthew was already taking Foggy with him. He turned back to her. “You’re wearing a mask.” A smile was on his lips.

 

Wanda turned back to Benjamin, conscious more now than she had been when she put the headdress and mask on. It was ridiculous, really. The headdress was one that Stark had made for her after the Ultron incident, it was a piece of vibranium, and while it offered no real protection, it was strong enough that she was allowed to concentrate her mental manipulation and focus it on one person more heavily than if she were without it. The mask, on the other hand, was the one that Matthew had asked for. He’d gone to great lengths to make it a symbol, fitting for an Avenger. 

 

She wasn’t an Avenger anymore, but a symbol was powerful, and she could use all the support she could get. 

 

Benjamin had maneuvered behind her shield, and Wanda focused on his mind just in time to predict where and when he would throw his baton, which he had just picked up. She caught it, and threw it back with near matched precision. He was too fast for her to pick up on his mind and concentrate long enough to put him to sleep, so Wanda reverted to forming a plan of attack. In such time, Benjamin had thrown three more objects, two smashed into the ground, and the other she caught with both hands. An opportunity had shown itself.

 

The energy pulsing around her sent out, illuminating the office in a dark red light. Those that were still alive were cowering beneath desks, and she ushered them out. The bodies, however, were even colder in the light, leaving Wanda sick to the stomach.

 

Once everyone was out of the room, Wanda ripped the mask from her face and crept forwards, calling out Benjamin’s name. 

  
  
  


Dex stopped. Wanda’s voice filled his ears. What was she doing here? In the middle of the carnage, when Dex had asked her to stay inside, to stay home. Rage filled him.

 

“ _ Go home, Wanda. _ ” His hand moved on impulse, tossing the nearest object. He didn't hear anything except a grunt of effort, from a woman.  _ Wanda. _

 

“Stop this, Benjamin.  _ Please.  _ I can't let you go if you don't come with me now.”

 

She was ordering him around. That wasn't how this was supposed to go. Dex was meant to come in, kill a few people in the suit, and go home. Go home to Wanda. She was  _ here, _ though; fighting him.  _ How? _ He wanted to scream.

 

“You can't stop me, Wanda.  _ Go home. _ ”

 

“I'm sorry.” Dex couldn't move.

 

Wanda's hands ached.  _ Oh, how they ached. _ Her arms, as well. It had been ages since she'd used her powers so liberally. The muscles in her arms had atrophied and now she was paying for it. Benjamin had to be stopped, though. He'd already taken so many lives, near equal to her own body count. She did not even wish to know how many he'd killed for the Bureau. 

 

Wanda gritted her teeth as Benjamin's mind and body fought against her own. He was psychotic, but she didn't care. Not like she should have. She hadn't been able to change Matthew, so.maybe she could change Benjamin. He seemed open enough to it. 

 

The red energy around Benjamin contracted, and he fell to the ground unconscious. Wanda did the same.

  
  
  


When she woke, her wrists behind her, and throat uncomfortably snug, Wanda panicked. Her mind raced with each passing second. It had all been a dream, a wonderful, nightmarish dream that she had squandered. Matthew, Benjamin, the family she'd found in Foggy and Karen, all of it had been a lie, and she'd ruined it with her selfishness, right?

 

Screaming. Not hers, not Clint's, or Sam's, or Scott's, but it was male, and primal. So animalistic, a shiver ran down her spine. 

 

“It's alright, Dex. She's gone now. Go back to your home, take the suit. I'll be here when you need me.”

 

_ Fisk. _


End file.
